


First Glances and Second Guesses

by 12thofNever



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Crossing Timelines, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, The Butterfly Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12thofNever/pseuds/12thofNever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after "The Three Doctors", the Second Doctor begins to have premonitions that cause him great anxiety. Jamie and Zoe try to help but the solution may be in a conversation Two can barely remember with his predecessor, the First Doctor. Two reveals he possesses a special new talent. Oh, and there's a Team Two pillow fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Anomaly of the Lost Recorder

**Author's Note:**

> An excuse for the First and Second Doctor to tell each other off. With some allusions to "The Five Doctors" (blink and you'll miss them) and my previous story (also set during "The Three Doctors"), "Found for a Second".  
> Also, this is my try at writing the First Doctor, who's a notoriously rough curmudgeon.

    "Has anyone seen my recorder?" the Doctor's voice called out yet again. He was underneath the TARDIS console and there was a yelp as he hit his head trying to get up. "This is VERY important!"  
     Zoe skidded into the room and glanced about. Finally the elfin astrophysicist saw where the Doctor was sprawled and she hovered over him until he noticed the legs of her shimmering silver jumpsuit. "Ah! There you are!" he snapped. "Well, it certainly took someone long enough to get here."  
     "You only shouted a moment ago," Zoe protested,  
    "I did not! I've been shouting for about twenty minutes or more." He was still searching in apparent futility beneath the panels. "Zoe, you haven't hidden my recorder again, have you? You and Jamie both do it... and don't pretend that you don't. You two are incorrigible about my music. I'll have you know the Anasazi people loved my flute-playing. Why, they even made excellent fan art of me."  
    He crawled out from beneath the mechanism on his hands and knees in order to give her a more accusing look. Offended, Zoe put defiant hands on her hips. "Why would we hide your recorder? That would be extremely childish. We would never do such a thing."  
    "Yes. It is extremely childish. And Zoe, you're fibbing. This is not helping my dilemma."  
    Frowning, the Doctor planted himself on the floor, his arms crossed in belligerence. His legs, clad in baggy checked trousers, were splayed out before him and he looked baffled, dejected and yes, childish himself.  
    She finally clicked her tongue and sighed.  
    "All right, we've hidden your recorder one or two times..." He started to sputter indignantly, but she continued, "Or three or four times, but not THIS time! I swear it!"  
    "Ah! Confessions at last! Just tell me where you hid it, Zoe, that's all I'm kindly asking. I shan't be too cross." The little man's small mouth twisted into a sulky pout. "Because this time it is a VERY serious matter and quite confounding for a number of other reasons." He began to knead his hands together in that nervous way of his, betraying the fact he was indeed very upset, perhaps not only for the loss of the recorder; in fact, she thought he even looked haunted. She tried to brush off her own sudden unease.  
    "I'm telling the truth, Doctor! Neither Jamie nor I touched your recorder. You had even left it right here in plain sight the last we saw it." She shrugged. "And despite it being very tempting to make off with it again...we didn't! " She frowned down at him, indicating underneath the TARDIS console. "And why would you think it'd gotten all the way down there?"  
    The Doctor looked deflated, slumping over in frustration. "I don't know," he admitted sadly, "I seem to remember last seeing it from this angle. How peculiar."  
  
    "What's all the racket about?" came Jamie's voice. "Is it over that silly recorder again? I didna do it this time! SHE did!" The kilted young man pointed at Zoe, throwing her a conniving look. Their pixie-ish companion, however, waved her hands at him in a frantic cease-and-desist gesture, indicating this was not a game this time. Because his Doctor's welfare was paramount, Jamie instantly sobered and became more attentive.  
    "It is NOT a silly recorder! I made it meself and it helps me think," the Doctor grumped as he finally staggered to his feet. "If only it was here to help me think of what I did with it..."  
    The young Scot sauntered over. The Doctor dusted off the seat of his shabby, over-sized frock coat and was about to reprimand his companion for his blasé attitude to his recorder-less crisis when he finally glanced up at Jamie's face. And then he abruptly froze. It was as if he were suddenly seeing Jamie from some great distance and after a long, long, harrowing separation. Could it have been days? Or had it been years? Centuries even? His face went ashen and his voice, when it finally emerged after a tense moment, was very strange.  
    "Jamie." It was barely a whisper. "Oh my dear, dear Jamie."  
    "Aye?" the young man said. "Doctor? Ye're lookin' a wee bit worried."  
    Zoe thought the Doctor looked more than just worried: he looked on the verge of panic. She thought he might suddenly rush to Jamie and throw his arms around him and cry. He stopped short of doing this, however, and only continued to stare wide-eyed at the young man, his hands making and unmaking fists in his oversized sleeves. Then he spun abruptly to glare at diminutive Zoe, giving her the same look of wild disbelief, as if astonished by her presence as well.  
    "Doctor." Zoe's voice was very careful. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
    The small, bedraggled man took a deep breath and murmured, "I am seeing ghosts. Right now I'm seeing you two..." He put his hands over his eyes, his voice growing angry. "No. This is not right." He rubbed at his face with sudden fury. "I'm here. HERE. Focus."  
    Jamie and Zoe looked at one another, concern and confusion interchangeable. Then Jamie stepped forward to gently grasp the little man's black sleeve. "Doctor, are ye feelin' all right?"  
    The Doctor put up both his hands then, backing away from Jamie, asking, "Where was I just a moment ago, Zoe, when you came into the room? "  
    "Why, you know where you were! Under the TARDIS console looking for your recorder. Doctor, what--"  
    "But did you see where I was before that?" When he saw their silent bewilderment, he barked, "Again, this is crucial! Something has happened that I don't remember and I can still FEEL it."  
    "Doctor," Zoe began again cautiously. "I don't understand."  
    "Zoe, there was a temporal anomaly here just a moment ago. I can still sense it--I have that special ability, as unrefined as it is. I know something was shifted from one place to another and from one time to another. And the TARDIS didn't cause this singularity. It was from some outside source..." The Doctor turned from them and began to pace, his brows lowered and stormy in concentration.  
    Jamie was looking baffled, as to be expected. Zoe confided, "He bumped his head on the console getting up."  
    Jamie looked relieved (physical injuries he could understand, not temporal whositwhatsits) and stepped forward again, ready to offer his assistance to the concussed. "Maybe ye should sit down and we can get some ice for yer head, Doctor."  
    The small man waved his arms around in frantic denial. "No, no, no, Jamie. My head is perfectly fine and all I need to do is REMEMBER. What was it that the anomaly removed from the room?" He tapped his chin. "The recorder, of course. But why would anyone want my recorder?"  
    Zoe mumbled, "Maybe for the same reasons we hide it."  
    The Doctor shot her an annoyed look. "Zoe, do try to be more constructive and less flippant. But why would they take it to another TIME?"  
    It was Jamie's turn. "They REALLY dinna want to hear ye play the blasted thing anymore." Zoe nodded at him in complete agreement.  
    "Oh, do wipe those supercilious looks off your faces and try to be more helpful! Don't you understand what's happened? It's--"  
    The Doctor stiffened then, his mouth looking like a small tilted slash in his face. He brought his fingers up to it as realization set in.  
    "Yes, the recorder had been moved to another time. An then ME along with it."  
  
    Zoe approached now. "Doctor? " She was starting to understand. "What I think you're trying to say is that you think something PULLED you from this room, from the actual TARDIS itself, and then took you somewhere else in time. Then afterwards, you were put back here again."  
    Jamie rolled his eyes. "Well, that's completely daft. Ye've been here all along, Doctor."  
    "Have YOU been here the whole time with me, Jamie? ...Zoe?... No. So you wouldn't have seen me vanish."  
    "Eh?" Jamie was completely lost.  
    Zoe was doing her best to try to attack this puzzle with logic. "Doctor, you say you sensed an anomaly. Can you remember anything at all? If you really believe something DID occur, that is." Anything was possible traveling with him; she had learned this in a relatively short time as his companion.  
    "Oh, it occurred, all right. I can still feel the crackling residue of vortical energy. It feels like an itch on the back of my neck." He swatted at the back of his neck now as if bitten by a vortical insect and muttered, "Firstly, I remember not having my recorder. I remember reaching for it... " His eyes took on a faraway, unfocused look. "And then another hand getting to it first..."  
    Both of his companions waited, listening to their friend's hypnotic recollection.  
    "And I remember wanting it back-- only it could never come back from where it was placed... " He covered his eyes again. "Oh, why is it so hard trying to see through the time barriers? It's like wading in a dream state! I need to concentrate."  
    He felt Jamie's encouraging hand on his shoulder then, always a comfort. His companion's easy touch always seemed to help ease his mental turmoil and he reached up to cover Jamie's hand with his own. Yet when he looked up into the young Scot's concerned face, he heard a distant and eerily familiar voice in his head tell him of a horrible future he could not prevent. "Your last words before you became me," it said, "were to call out for Jamie."  
    He was stricken. "Oh Jamie," he sighed.  
    And then he fainted.  
    Zoe cried out in alarm as Jamie swiftly caught his friend. "Zoe!" he pleaded. "Do somethin'! I dinnae know what's wrong with him!" She saw he was beginning to panic. "Is he sick?"  
    "Bring him to his room," she cried.  
    With one simple move, Jamie hoisted the small man over his shoulder like a soldier carrying a wounded comrade off a battlefield. They made their way through the TARDIS corridors until they came to the Doctor's sleeping quarters. He rarely used them as he barely seemed to need sleep; his alien physicality still fascinated Zoe and bewildered Jamie. The room was somewhat plain, looking a bit like a cabin in an ancient earth sailing ship. There was a cozy, unmade bed and a trunk at the foot of it, no doubt full of trinkets and toys. An empty hat-rack stood off to the side and there was an earthy wooden set of drawers in the corner, probably full of more of the eccentric, shabby clothing the Doctor seemed to prefer. They poured the unconscious little man into his bed and Jamie abruptly sat beside the prostrate form in a proprietary way, taking one of his hands in both of his and looking distressed. "Do ye think he was tellin' the truth about being yanked away somewhere else? Going to another time and all that when we weren't here with him?"  
    "I think he believes that," Zoe said, tapping her chin with thoughtful urgency. "Perhaps if we leave him to rest, he'll be able to regain enough memory to piece together on his own what's happened. As for fainting, I think he's... well, he's overwhelmed."  
    "We shouldna leave him alone!" insisted Jamie, not even looking up from the sleeping saturnine face. "Somethin' might be verra wrong."  
    "Yes, you're right. But we shouldn't allow ourselves to become overly fretful. He may just be in desperate need of rest. Let's wait and watch."  
    "Aye, aye. I'll stay here then." Jamie was sliding his hand over top the Doctor's in a reassuring caress. Zoe made a note of this, as well as the hazel eyes fastened despondently on his friend's unconscious countenance. There was no way she would be able to persuade him to leave his beloved's side.  
    "We'll both stay, if you like."  
    "Oh, aye." He was barely acknowledging her presence now except to hear reassurances that his Doctor would be all right. She sighed. It was hopeless: these two were proverbially joined at the hip.  
    She sat down at the end of the bed and noticed the Doctor's eyes moving beneath his lids, knew that he was deep within a dream. Hopefully, it would be a beneficial dream.  
    And they waited.  
  
    "Hmm, hmm. So you're the next one, eh?" Like a white-feathered hawk, the First Doctor circled the Second, studying him with the intensity of that bird of prey. "It would appear I've grown small and ridiculous! Hmph."  
    "There's no need to be rude, " Second said, annoyed. The two versions of the Time Lord known as the Doctor squared off as each scrutinized the other.


	2. The Old Hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Two meets One...one-on-one. Or should that be One on Two?

    The old man eyed his next self with imperious nut-brown eyes, one dignified hand grasping at the lapel of his black frock coat. The First Doctor lifted a jutting chin as he studied the small, disheveled man he would become. "Couldn't I even find clothes that fit properly? Hmm?"  
    His other hand was leaning on a peculiar corkscrew-shaped cane. The Second Doctor, when he saw it, could not help but grin. He remembered this dear, eccentric walking stick with great fondness--that is, until First began poking at him with it. "You need a good dusting off, boy, not to mention a decent tailor!" He grunted and kept prodding at the shorter man as if he were something unpleasant found on the ground. "Do you call these braces? What is occurring with your bow-tie? A safety-pin? Of all the slovenly--" And finally the Second, smaller version of the Doctor had had enough and vehemently pushed the cane aside.  
    "Ow! I say! STOP THAT! Are you quite finished assaulting me, not to mention insulting me? I'm quite through with the BOTH of you, you know," he snapped.  
    "What? Both of me? Of course, you're referring to the Third version of me as well. My other replacement. The dandy with all the ruffles."  
    "Well, yes, he is a bit overdressed," admitted Second, "but you and he are being quite unpleasant towards me. I'm finding it annoying and not to mention unfair. And if you must know, I somehow regenerated into these clothes. Don't ask me how it happened, but I quite like them. So there."  
    Second thought how peculiar it was to call one's next regenerations "replacements": this must be the mindset of the only child, or in this case, the "not-yet-regenerated". Meeting another version of one's self must be like acquiring a sibling in some respect. If this had not yet happened to you, you would view yourself as the prime edition, the original from whence all the future versions sprang. Second looked down at himself a bit sadly then, thinking perhaps he was indeed just a poor next edition of First.  
  
    He had never thought he would end up in such a pickle: the middle child in a trio comprised of incarnations of the same Time Lord, the oldest and youngest both ridiculously pompous as far as he was concerned. He had been whisked out of his own time stream (while looking for his recorder, which he suspected might have just fallen out of his pocket at the time of transferal) and put into another TARDIS belonging to a future self whom he would soon come to refer to as "Three". That tall, dapper man (with far too much hair) had been in the company of his charming assistant Jo, whom Second had instantly pitied upon getting to know his Third self better. Three was imperious and brash and had seemed highly offended by his former self's sudden, singular presence, not to mention his very existence. He had been appalled rather than intrigued by the strangeness of their meeting.  
    It had been revealed that the Time Lords had arranged this temporal paradox in order to defeat an ancient being of Gallifreyan history called Omega. It had been a long, drawn-out affair, which had culminated in Two's recorder actually becoming quite useful (he would smugly need to tell Jamie and Zoe all this, of course); but this had also resulted in his losing that beloved musical instrument forever.  
    Forever. Yes. Like other things he would be losing forever, as Three had ruefully told him when they had finally had a quiet moment together to chew over their differences. "You called out for Jamie..."  
  
    But all of this would not have been accomplished without the First Doctor acting as a sort of referee over his bickering future selves. Here's where it became ridiculously complicated and probably only a Time Lord mentality could keep track of all this mess: the Time Lords had not been able to pull One through to join them in their Omega adventure, but rather had kept him in a sort of pocket of time all to himself (like a little spare room), where he had no doubt paced and fumed while his other two selves dealt directly with Omega. Yet he had been encouraged by the Time Lords to berate the other two when they had ended up wanting to throttle each other. Finally, in the aftermath of all this time-stream braiding, the Second Doctor had been pulled out of Three's TARDIS with the aim of sending him back home again. But the Time Lords had still managed to make a mess even of that: they had now (and this was really starting to give him a headache) accidentally popped Two into the First Doctor's TARDIS instead. Rather than being back to his own time, recorder-less and in the company of Jamie and Zoe, he was now being glared at by this white-haired apparition. (And what a petrifying glare it was.) Not to mention he was getting a quite exhausted by all the time-jumping and looking at all the different versions of his own face.  
  
    First seemed only mildly startled by the scruffy little man in the oversized clothes materializing into his version of the TARDIS. This was the first, battered, fugitive edition of the ship and it felt like coming home to Second. He stood and gazed about with wistful wonder. Ah, there's the bronze column and there's the bird sculptures, always reassuring sights. There's that rather uncomfortable chair, yes. And the old monitor, how quaint. He had always quite liked what One had done with the place.  
    Only now, staring at the stern, aged creature before him, did he realize he was actually the elder of the two. He had One's memories compounded with his own and this should have logically given him the edge over his haughty younger self. First was even now eyeing him through the monocle he kept on a ribbon about his neck, studying him as if he were a germ under a microscope. Second remembered having seen those sleek and angular cheekbones in his own mirror for centuries, along with the hard beads of those eyes that now flicked back and forth in the fashion of an inquisitive bird. It was disconcerting seeing this face now as a separate entity from himself; it was as if he had been split in two, rather than having been merely renewed.  
  
    He immediately realized he was overstaying his welcome here, as he had in Three's TARDIS. "Oh dear," he sighed, hoping the Time Lords were working on this dilemma. He twisted his hands together within his big sleeves, fidgeting. "I do need to get back to my own proper time. Jamie and Zoe, if they've even noticed I've vanished, will be needing me... They're a needy team."  
    "Eh? Who are Jamie and Zoe? Are they to be my future companions?" demanded First.  
    Second felt suddenly very possessive of his friends. Indignantly, he insisted,"They're MY companions. You won't have met them. And they will be quite upset once they've found I've gone on a temporal walkabout and not taken them with me."  
    The old man leaned on his walking stick and at the same time clutched at his lapel with the other hand. Such grandiosity, Second sighed. Did I really pose this way all the time? How embarrassing.  
    "What are they like...? That is to say... tell me about our companions Zeddy and Jonny."  
    "Zoe and Jamie. Yes," Two corrected gently. His old self was terrible with names; he had considered them interchangeable and unnecessary. "MY companions are quite remarkable and they are my best friends."     
    "Friends, are they now? Hmm. Well, I suppose that's an interesting development. Companions becoming friends." First actually looked a bit plaintive. Then he abruptly snapped: "Yes, yes, that's all very vague. I want more details. Describe them to me as if you were painting a picture, dear fellow."  
    This appealed to Second tremendously. He grinned and clapped his hands. "All right, I will paint you a picture, my good man. Zoe worked on a space station called the Wheel and she is a tiny genius--much like myself-- and for one so young, she is an astrophysicist, with a perfect memory. She is small, as I've said, and built a bit like a dancer and wears her hair in a brown bob. She is quite capable at math and surprisingly proficient at self-defense. She actually seems to know something of a Venusian aikido-like martial art as well. It came in quite handy once in the Land of--"  
    "And the other one? This Jimmy?"  
    "Jamie." Here, Second began to twine his hands together, realizing he was now smiling wistfully and becoming quite bashful. His eyes drifted to the floor. "Jamie is from Scotland, four centuries before Zoe's time. He's only a lad, really. He was a piper at the Battle of Culloden and is quite fierce, especially whilst protecting me... er, protecting us, that is. Not as brilliant as Zoe, obviously, but he has something quite...earthy... about him. Pure." His eyes softened. "We are of a height and he has reddish-brown hair and warm hazel eyes and is quite brave and..."  
    He faltered, becoming aware of First's strange silence. He looked up to to see his younger self (albeit in the guise of a much older man) looking at him with that wary, hawk-like intensity. "And...?" First insisted with impatience, somehow sensing where this was going.  
    Second blushed then and glanced downwards once more. "I think," he said with a shy smile, "I think I've fallen in love with him."  
    "WHAT?" cried First. He struck the floor several times with his cane, making Two jump, startled. "WHAT? Of all the impropriety!"  
  


	3. Ice Cream and Jelly Babies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two has admitted the unthinkable to One: he's fallen in love. With a human.  
> (And yes, the Second Doctor was the very first Doctor to have ever mentioned jelly babies.)

    "Impropriety?" the Second Doctor gasped, looking at his former self.  
    "Improper," continued the First Doctor. "Unseemly."  
    "Falling in love is... unseemly? It would seem, as I remember all too well, that you've actually done it yourself. Several times, in fact." The Second Doctor glowered and then stamped his foot to emphasize his point. "Of all the self-righteous posturing..."  
    "Falling in love with a human traveling companion is scandalous!" thundered First. And he banged his cane on the floor yet again to emphasize his own indignation. "Have I completely lost my wits during my first regeneration? This is unacceptable! UNACCEPTABLE!"  
    "How DARE you lecture me about impropriety!" Second shouted then, taking two steps towards the imperious old man and his dangerous walking stick. "You're the one who stole a TARDIS and whisked away your own granddaughter to go on to kidnap two Earth teachers!"  
    First tugged at his lapel again, his typical self-protective gesture. "It was all good fun for them in the end. And now they're home."  
    "Yes, but it didn't make it RIGHT!" the smaller man shouted, standing on his toes to try to get into his former self's line of sight. First kept alluding his gaze by always fixing his eyes magisterially elsewhere in the room.  
    Second pointed a stubborn finger at his previous incarnation: "You sanctimonious prig! If you want to know what is truly scandalous, I can go even further into your--OUR-- past. Long before you even had an itch to see the universe and filch a TARDIS, what you DID to--"  
    First turned huge, round and furious eyes to his next self. "What WE did."  
    "Oh, you're finally accepting that I'm YOU as well. Well, thank you very much," Two mumbled sarcastically. "What you did, what I did, what WE did. And the repercussions--"  
    First's nostrils flared; he looked suddenly dangerous. "How dare you. How. Dare. You." For a moment, the Second Doctor staggered back, actually terrified by the rage he saw in the old man's face--until he remembered that it had once been his own face as well.  
    "Our Third self has told me some terrible things that are to occur." Second was shaking in his own fury, as well as the memory of Third's revelation. "We are going to face horrible retribution from the Time Lords because of what we've done."      
    "Yes, I know," First said, leveling his future self with a lance-like gaze.  
    "How can you possibly know what Three told me?"  
    The old man clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Because I was there when he told you."  
    "No, you weren't--"  
    "Idiot! I'm YOU. We're the same person." First sighed in exasperation. "All three of us are linked right now. In fact, I am certain that at this very moment, our foppish Third self is remembering this exact conversation." First rolled his eyes. "I never thought I would see the day when I talked to myself this loudly. Talked to my SELVES. Oh, what complete lunacy! I hope this will never happen again to my future incarnations after you fools finally go on and regenerate. Hmph! This is another very good reason to not cross your own timelines. You might want to knock your other selves' heads together."  
    Second stepped back as a precaution, but he had grown very quiet. Then his brows lowered and they were like stormy, descending raven's wings. It was the smaller self's turn to look threatening now.  
    He said in a much too quiet voice: "Then you must know what will happen to me."  
  
    First gave him a quick, bird-like glance then lifted a dismissive chin. "Hmph. Yes, yes. I've become quite aware."  
    "Because of what you've done," Second said in a low, chilly whisper. "What I've done. What we've done."  
    First narrowed his eyes. "And would you have preferred I had NOT taken the course that I did? Hmm? Truthfully?"  
    The storm-clouds seemed to clear from Second's face, very gently. The thick black brows lifted and this softened his large blue eyes once more. It was quite a startling difference, First observed. He watched the ebony lashes lower. "No. I would have done just the same. And I must say I have certainly mastered the art of running away even better than you have."  
    "Hmph. Impertinent. Well, we know what is to come, you and I. And once we are separated and sent back to our proper time-streams, the memory of this conversation will be erased. And so will the memory of your talking to the Future Fop and his telling you of all these dreadful events to come."  
    Second could not help but smirk at First's description of Third. Yet he murmured, "No. No, I don't think I shall forget."  
    "Eh? But that's how these paradoxes work, dear boy!" First insisted. "Once removed from the presences of the other versions of yourself, only the future self will retain memories of the meeting! Otherwise, it would be dangerous to the past selves to hold such knowledge and possibly change events."  
    "Yes," Second said carefully. "Yes, it would be. But is that such a terrible thing sometimes?" He wound his fingers together. "I seem to have the ability to sidestep the paradoxes, so to speak."  
    "What are you saying there?" barked First. "That you have premonitions? That you can see further along your own time-stream?"  
    Second smiled sheepishly. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. How do you think I got so clever at running away? Knowing when to run and how far is the trick." He tapped the side of his nose. "I've been able to see ahead...just a bit."  
    First tapped his chin in quiet amazement, his eyes flitting back and forth as he considered this. "Fascinating. Fascinating. This is a skill I will acquire when I regenerate?"  
    "Well, not quite. I can't really consider it a 'skill'," said the smaller man, modestly. "It's too, how shall we say, haphazard to be a proper skill. It's just, rather, something that can happen if I put my mind to it..."  
    First smiled with a certain devilish mischief then. "This ability is rare indeed, yes. Yes." He began to chuckle. "Useful. Yes. And I will be able to do it!"  
    Two lifed a warning finger."Not well. I must stress this before you have such a high expectation of me. It's unpredictable, but there you have it." Then he mused: "Three doesn't have it. No, not at all." And then he frowned. "I'm afraid he's lost the ability and replaced it with several inches of height. And a thick, egotistical skull." All at once, he gave a small moan of realization. "Of course, the Time Lords. They took it away from me when...Oh." He closed his eyes, remembering what his future self had told him. "When they tamper with me... and make me into him. "  
    He covered his face then.  
    First looked at him, alarmed. He was more concerned for Second's display of despair than any calamitous future event. He took a tentative step forward.  
    "Dear fellow," he said in the most cautious, gentle voice he had yet used in his future self's presence.  
    "They're going to take Jamie away from me," came Second's broken reply, muffled by the palms of his hands.  
  
    One of the things Two remembered about being his First self was his reaction to another's tears: he would melt, his imperious facade sloughing away with the speed of a Time Lord's double heartbeat. First hid empathy beneath his curmudgeonly nature, and he could not bear the sight of an other's suffering. He had learned much in his long first life and compassion had become his greatest acquisition: it was the constant that would follow him into the next life, and then the next, and probably into ten more future lives.  
    One of First's ancient hands fell with practiced grandfatherly tenderness on to Second's baggy sleeve. "Dear boy, " he said softly, "They are humans. They have such short lives anyway. I've already had to abandon so many because I could not bear to lose them in far more awful ways."  
    Second sniffled and removed his hands from his face, reaching for his polka-dotted handkerchief. His eyes were swollen, greenish with tears. "But you never had someone like Jamie. He's my dearest friend and I love him. And they're going to send him away and he won't even remember who I am..."  
    There followed a pitiful sob, and First watched Second blow his nose (which sounded like a trumpet blast) before he said, "There was Susan. She was the hardest to let go. I had to do it for her own safety."  
    "I still miss Susan," said Second in misery.  
    "Yes," said First very, very quietly. "Yes, of course you do." He turned away, rocking the butt of his cane on the ground, to and fro.  
    "I love all of them," the smaller man admitted. "Ben and Polly: they're still with you now, I gather. They were my first companions."  
    First spun to face him, urgent. "Are they safe? Are they well?"  
    Second's smile was gentle as he held up his hands. "They're perfectly fine, old boy. I took good care of them and they're home now. Jamie came along next and he's been with me the longest." He heaved a wistful sigh again. "And then came Victoria. She's found a nice safe place to live now. And of course, there's brilliant little Zoe. I do my very best to take good care of them all, I'll have you know. You'd be very proud of me. Not one of them has gotten hurt traveling with me. Yes, we've had our occasional bad scrapes. But we've pulled through and have actually had quite a jolly time together." His grin was broad now, his tears forgotten. "And they seem to like my company, imagine that! I'm still trying to get us to a good beach where we can build sandcastles and have ice cream. That would be simply splendid."  
  
    First narrowed his eyes at his next incarnation, but he could not hide the twinkle in them. His next self really was like a child, and he envied his guilelessness. Perhaps, secretly, he had wanted this for his first regeneration: a chance to be this giddy and innocent again. This aspect of Two pleased the old man and he almost smiled at his future self with newfound warmth. But just as quickly, however, he hid this emotion with a loud harrumph.  "Yes, yes, I have complete confidence that my next self would take such great responsibility in the stewardship of his companions." He waved a dismissive hand. "I am thankful Polly and Ben are safe and sound."  
    What also strangely pleased and thrilled him was the revelation of a sudden darkness he had seen descend upon his Second self as they had argued. It had only lasted a scant moment, but he had recognized it all too well. As gentle and warm as Two was, the First Doctor was in no doubt that his own ferocity was very much still present within the otherwise comical little fellow. He had heard the low threat in Second's voice only a moment ago, something akin to advancing thunder, and this made him smile inwardly, knowing that danger could still be called forth when necessary. His future companions would always have a staunch, fierce protector.  
    But what most concerned him now was this dilemma of himself falling in love. Yes, in his current lifetime there had been many lovers, appropriate and... well, not so appropriate. And yes, he had been quite smitten with Cameca, the Aztec woman with whom he had once shared cocoa. She had quite possibly been the first human who had ever struck his fancy, so to speak; and now there was this Jonny. Or Jimmy. Or was it Jamie? Oh, names were such ridiculous affectations anyway.  
    This short-lived Scottish Earth lad had somehow stolen his next self's hearts. "Are you certain you love this Jesse person?" he asked.  
    Two sighed. "Now I really think you're doing that on purpose. His name is Jamie. Jamie McCrimmon. And yes. He is... especially... dear to me." First saw his future self's bottom lip quiver with the threat of more tears. No, best to nip this in the bud as fast as possible. The sight of more tears (especially his own) would undo him completely.  
    "Jamie, of course, of course. Well, my boy, you must seize every moment you have together with the lad and make the most of it."  
    Second stared at him, astonished. "What now?"  
    First clapped him on the shoulder. "You know what's to come, yes? Don't squander your time with him. Why--" He extended his arms in a histrionic gesture to encompass all of time and space. "Go on adventures! See the universe! Follow the time corridors! Have ice cream on a beach in the Hestia Gamen system. Oh dear, I don't recall them serving decent ice cream there, but you might have the TARDIS manufacture you some. Anything is possible." He lifted his twisted cane in a grand gesture. "By all means, enjoy yourselves!"  
    Second stood there in disbelief. "Am I hearing you correctly?"  
    "I'd hope my hearing would have improved when I regenerated, but apparently this is not the case. Yes, you idiot. Go and LOVE the boy!" And then First said something completely rude and borderline vulgar about the Time Lords which made Second's eyes bulge in shock.  
    One chuckled at his Second self's scandalized expression. "Oh, come, come. You've heard such language come out of me before, hmm? You used to BE me, after all! You are me enough to know what I think of those grandiose ninnies in their high collars. And you're me enough to know that I will follow my hearts no matter how much they try to tamper with my freedom. They won't win." He held up a hand when Two tried to protest about Three's fate. He pointed the tip of his cane at Second's chest, indicating his own two hearts. "They will NEVER win. Hmph. Let them try and change us. They ended up making Three even stronger despite their meddling with you, did they not?"  
    Second shrugged. "I suppose so," he sighed. "And Rassilon only knows what Four will end up like."  
    They both stood still, completely silent for a moment, experiencing the same image that had suddenly popped into Two's mind. And both of them shuddered when they felt the premonition of the future depart. "Oh my word. Oh dear, " muttered Two, "So THAT will be our Fourth self. How... unique." Absently, he reached into one of his voluminous pockets. He pulled out a small paper bag and popped something into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Then he looked up, offering the contents of the bag to First. "Oh, how rude of me. Jelly baby?"  
    "Jelly what?"  
    "Jelly baby. It's a gooey Earth sweet. Quite addictive."  
    One held his jaw, preemptively. "Hmph, I've had enough problems with sweets and my teeth. I think not."  
    "It's your loss," shrugged Two, munching.  
    The white-haired Time Lord leaned on his walking stick and tilted his head at his future self. "You seem improved, dear fellow."  
    "Quite," smiled Two. "Yes. Yes, I do feel better. Thank you very much." He ginned and then just as quickly frowned. "But I do seem to be stuck here with you at the moment. No offense, of course, but I really should be in my own TARDIS with my own companions."  
    "And especially your one dear companion," First nodded knowingly.  
    Second blushed. "Zoe needs me as well. I think she understands about Jamie and me and this makes her more happy to be with us." He smiled softly, winding his fingers together. "She's a very exceptional, intelligent young woman."  
    First beamed at Second's unfailing affection for his charges. But enough was enough. "There simply cannot be two of us in one place and time, dear fellow. It would make me even more irritable and you might get injured."  
    Two eyed the walking stick again. "Agreed. So, I am assuming they will send me back shortly. They must have realized by now that I am not back there yet."  
    They stood next to each other for a moment, silent, waiting. First tapped the head of his cane with his fingers expectantly, and Two rolled back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind his back.  
    Finally, Second muttered, "You won't like Three's TARDIS interior."  
    "I don't like his ostentatious manner of dress very much either. And I don't understand the hair..." One gestured at his own head, at an imaginary bouffant.  
    "Quite the rooster, yes?" grinned the smaller man, glad to have an accomplice in order mock Three. There was more awkward silence and Second finally said: "Would you like a hug?"  
    First glared at him.  
    "Sorry, sorry. Not the hugging type, I remember this now." Two approached him instead with both hands outstretched in an attempt to engulf his previous self's hands in a vigorous handshake. Just as they made contact, Two yelped: "Oh my word! It's happening now! I can feel myself slipping away. I daresay this is quite--"  
    And then he was gone that quickly, having faded from the room and First's memory completely.  
  
    The First Doctor stood there, a confused hand to his chin. He shook his head, certain that he could remember what he had just intended to do. No, it was useless. Completely slipped his mind. It was at that moment that Polly, looking exasperated, found him. The tall young blonde woman took his arm, frantic. "Doctor! Where have you been? We've found something rather peculiar on the scanner. Ben insists you need to have a look at it immediately. Something about the South Pole. It's Earth! Earth! It must be!"  
    First didn't seem to be hearing her. "Butterflies," he murmured.  
    "What was that, Doctor?" Polly asked.  
    "I've suddenly been thinking about butterflies," the old man said. "How very peculiar."  
    "Doctor, are you feeling all right? You actually look as if you're in need of a rest..."  
    "Child, I have an odd feeling I'll be doing a lot more than simply resting very soon. I have a... premonition it might be a little more involved than just a nap."  
    "Doctor, you're not making much sense. Are you certain you're all right? Here. Let's just go and look at what Ben has found."  
    "Yes, yes, stop fussing now. Let's see what we're getting ourselves into this time. Hopefully it won't involve monsters. How tiresome."      
                     


	4. Butterflies and Pillow Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Second Doctor is home in his own TARDIS again, but he must try to explain what's happened to his alarmed companions.

    The Second Doctor was dreaming about butterflies.  
    He was in a meadow full of every species of the insects imaginable: wings like stained glass, endless rainbow colors, varied and ridiculous and beautiful. He would like to make a suit full of so many colors someday, he thought. However, with deep sadness, he knew each one of these winged jewels would live for only a very short, colorful life. He would honor them the best he could.  
    He was playing them a song on his recorder: it was the most perfect, most exquisite, most wonderful song in all the universe. And he knew he would not remember a note of it when he woke up. "Oh crumbs!" he bellowed in frustration.  
    "Doctor, why are you crying?" said a distinctly Scottish voice at his side, tugging at his sleeve.      
    "I'm not crying. Oh... I guess I am."  
    He let his eyelids flutter open, and when his sight cleared he saw Jamie's alarmed face hovering over his. "Jamie," he smiled sleepily. And then he flinched when something splashed onto his cheek. Not one of his this time but one of Jamie's.  
    "Jamie, why are you crying?"  
    The young man ran a sleeve over his eyes. "Because you started it first."  
    "What? Preposterous. I've been unconscious." A quick check with his fingers to his face revealed damp cheeks and the salt of already dried tears. "Oh well, all right, I must have been a bit upset in my sleep then. Now what's your excuse?"     
    "I was worried! You've been asleep fer days! I thought you were never goin' to open yer eyes again!" Jamie turned abruptly and yelled: "Zoe! ZOE! He's awake!"  
    "Jamie, calm down. I feel perfectly fine and don't understand what all this fuss is about. I probably just needed a little nap." He struggled to sit up but Jamie continued fussing with him, trying to get him to stay put.  
    "For five days?" Jamie protested.  
    "That's practically a coma!" cried Zoe, skittering into the room. "Doctor, that's how long you've been unconscious. Five days! Don't you remember fainting in the console room?"  
    The Doctor rose up on his elbows because Jamie would allow that, though the young Scot's arms still pinioned him to the bed. "Hmm. Vaguely." Jamie helped to prop him up against his pillow. "I was looking for my recorder and..." His eyes grew in size. "Oh my word! Yes! Of course!" He turned and looked at both of them; Zoe had also planted herself in the bed beside him. "I must have frightened you both so much. I am so sorry." He grabbed each of their hands. "Has anything happened? Has the TARDIS been misbehaving--?"  
    "Yes, we're fine, the TARDIS is fine. We've just been floating about in space and time, I suppose, a bit directionless these past five days." Zoe looked pointedly at Jamie. "Us as well as the TARDIS. Waiting for you to wake up."  
    "Aw Doctor, don't ever do that to me...er, us again," Jamie blustered. "Ye know I hate it when ye're all mysteriously unconscious. What happened this time?"  
    The Doctor frowned. "I believe I came down with a chrono-virus."  
    "A what?" Zoe asked.  
    "A chrono-virus. Remember when I told you I'd been yanked into another time? Well, I was indeed. And I remember little bits and pieces, somewhat like dream images that pop into your head and then eventually fade, confounding you completely. I've always been very sensitive to temporal energy, as I've told you. Sometimes if you're not careful you can catch a sort of... well, a time traveler's cold. Which is to say, a chrono-virus."  
    "Ye caught a cold?" Jamie was doing his best to follow all this.  
    "Somewhat. Let's give it another name: a time-cold. And the memories of being in a time paradox appeared to have wreaked havoc on my system and so...thud! Hello Doctor, meet floor. I am so, so sorry I worried the two of you."  
    "Oh, Doctor, we're just relieved you're well again. You ARE well again, aren't you?" Zoe asked, running an intense, critical gaze over him.  
    "Oh, quite, yes." He grinned at her to show her how much better he was feeling. "The sleep did me well and helped me work out some things."  
    "What sort of things?" Jamie asked, confused.  
    The Doctor looked at him softly for a moment, blushed, and then cleared his throat. "Ahem, yes, certain memories. Conversations I had in that other place."  
    "And what was this other place?" Zoe asked. "Where did they take you?"  
    "Ah, see, I don't remember precisely. That's part of the virus."  
    "And you think you've sufficiently recovered now?"  
    "Of course! Now if this hairy-legged Scot would only let me get out of bed..."  
    "Oh, aye, I s'pose I should let ye get back to work. Ye've had too much lazin' about as it is."  
    "Hmph. Impertinent."  
    Then abruptly, the small man froze at his own words, aware of where he had last heard them. He also became aware that the other two were studying him with renewed trepidation. Best to make use of a little deflection now, he thought. He slowly reached across the bed and then proclaimed:  
    "PILLOW FIGHT!"  
    Jamie and the Doctor merrily began swatting each other but Zoe stepped obstinately to the side, arms crossed. "Oh stop it, you two! How completely juvenile!" But after one missile hurled by Jamie hit her squarely in the face, she quickly became a zealous participant in the skirmish.  
    Finally, the three collapsed giggling, side-by-side under a soft shower of feathers. The Doctor sighed happily and then mused: "You know what? I have it in my mind to devote an entire room in the TARDIS to butterflies."  
    Zoe's head was on one of his shoulders, Jamie's on the other. "I wasn't aware you had an interest in lepidoptery, Doctor," she said, impressed.  
    "Lepi-whatsis?" Jamie muttered.  
    "The study of butterflies and moths, Jamie." The Doctor gave a fierce puff at a feather that had floated onto his mouth.  
    "Oh, aye, I knew that..."  
    The little man folded his hands across his chest, thoughtful. "I've always been fond of butterflies, you know. I could make it look like a wonderful meadow, collect specimens from a myriad worlds. What do you think of that, hmm? A Butterfly Room, yes, right here whenever I needed it..."  
    Jamie sighed. "I still think ye're a wee daft chappie, but if ye need butterflies, I cannae see the harm in that. But they don't live very long though, do they, Doctor?"  
    Zoe and Jamie both did not fail to see the sudden sorrow cross the small man's features at that moment. However, just as swiftly, he countered it by grabbing each of their hands and smiling. "Well, then, they are far more precious for it, are they not? And we must make the most of the time we will have with them, musn't we? Come, let's clean up all the feathers and then try to set some coordinates for a beach somewhere. I want sand and sea air, don't you? And I want ice cream."  
    He vaulted himself out of the bed and grabbed his frock coat from the nearby hat stand. "Also, I need to begin carving myself a new recorder..."  
    Zoe and Jamie groaned simultaneously.  
    "Don't you two give me grief! Get us some brooms, would you?"  
    The two of them snickered together as they ran from the room, probably already devising ways to sabotage the manufacturing of the new recorder. The Doctor sighed and was still standing in the same place when Jamie eventually re-emerged with a broom.  
    "Doctor? Are ye all right?" he asked in a quiet voice. "Truly?"  
    The young man came up to him and took one of his hands in his, running careful fingers over the Doctor's own. At his intimate touch, the Doctor seemed to hear a faraway voice; this time, however, it was not warning him of terrible things to come, but rather of wonderful things he should do. He remembered looking into a mirror and seeing a sharp-eyed, hawk-like visage with white hair and he heard this same voice proclaiming: "Enjoy yourselves. Love the boy!"  
    The Second Doctor took the young man's face in gentle hands and whispered, "Don't you ever let me catch you crying over me again, do you hear me, Jamie dear?"  
    "Oh, aye. As long as you don't go away again. Or keep fainting for weird reasons."  
    "I wasn't away. I was just asleep." He kissed Jamie, his mouth soft as butterfly wings.  
      
    Zoe decided she would bide her time in the hallway, pretending to sweep non-existent feathers from corners. For certain, the Doctor and Jamie needed a little more time to themselves now that the Doctor had woken up. She grinned and was very close to humming like a joyful child, all the while wondering what was getting into her; it seemed that as of late, her highly efficient brain was turning into mush. Then she looked up and there in the hallway before her stood a complete stranger. She gasped: what in all of time and space was happening now? "How did you get in here?" she cried. "Who are you?"  
    "Calm yourself, child! I was just checking in on my replacement!" said the old man, grasping at his lapels with dignified self-importance.  
    "DOCTOR!" screamed Zoe at the top of her lungs.  
    "Yes, yes, child, I know who I am. Please keep your voice down. Oh dear, now you've done it. Well, I must say it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Zeddy..." He bowed and just as her Doctor and Jamie galloped into the hallway, releasing each other's hands, she was no longer believing she had seen anything at all.  
  
    "Oh. How peculiar. For a minute, I thought I saw a ghost," Zoe apologized, attempting to call back her errant logic. She was in a bit of a stupor. "But that's ridiculous. There are no such things." She glanced at what the apparition had put into her hand before vanishing. "Oh look, Doctor." This observation came out without much enthusiasm. "It would seem that you've got a new recorder."  
   "Why the sly old devil," the Doctor grinned as he took his shiny new musical instrument from her shaking hand. Then he remembered to comfort her. "Are you all right now, Zoe? Perhaps what you've seen is my temporal anomaly."  
    "Did your temporal anomaly look like an old white-haired man?" Zoe asked.  
    The Second Doctor smiled. "Possibly."  
    "All right. Who was he then?"  
    "That is a very long story, my dear. Shall I tell you both over ice cream?"  
  
END  
    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reference to the Eighth Doctor novel Vampire Science here (written by Jonathan Blum and Kate Orman) which introduced the wonderful concept of the Butterfly Room. This is my take on where the idea for it might have come from, and of course it's from Two.


End file.
